


Gods and Goodbyes

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Ab Aeterno [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curses, Detective Stiles, Grad Student Scott, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic, ProScott, Reincarnation, Rituals, Serial Killer, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is dying and Theo finally reveals the truth that has haunted him for a thousand years. Scott needs to make a decision before it's too late. His freedom is a small price to pay.</p><p>The end of Ab Aeterno, a love story across lifetimes and throughout history between two idiot best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gods and Goodbyes

“Stiles!”

Scott crashed to his knees beside the fallen detective, knife clattering against the hardwood floor. His hands fluttered over the other man’s body, hesitant and panicked before he forced himself to calm. He was a doctor, or he had been. Young men riddled with gunshots was something he’d dealt with a thousand times before, it was just impossible to focus when it was Stiles’s face that was screwed up in pain, Stiles’s breath rasping hard in the silence between Theo’s amused chuckles. He pressed his hands to the wound, ignoring the way deep red blood oozed from between his fingers.

“Call… Call…” The detective tried to move, but Scott guided his hands back to his chest wound before going for his phone. His shirt was stained a deep crimson, the scent of copper so familiar, it left Scott dizzy.

“I’m going to get you help. Don’t move, just breathe with me.” Scott ordered with a shaky whisper. Without Stiles to break the barrier, the immortal would have nowhere to go and no way of explaining this to the police. He had resources, but this identity didn’t. It was okay. When his best friend was involved, there wasn’t an argument worth making. If he spent the next decades trapped in a prison cell, looking no older than he did coming in, it would be worth it to know Stiles survived. “You’re gonna be okay, Stiles. Just hold that here, keep the pressure on. I’m going to get you help.”

He fumbled with the phone, fingers too tacky for any delicacy. “Hello? We need help! Send an ambula-” The phone shattered as Theo shot through Scott’s hand, sharp chips of plastic embedded in blood and boned. Scott couldn’t even scream, clutching his ruined hand to his chest and deafened by the noise.

“I think it’s a little late for help.” Theo said smugly, as Stiles let out a strangled wheeze, blood spilling past his lips. Scott howled like a wild animal. He closed his only working hand around the dagger and whirled back to face his captive, looking every inch a feral creature. Scott paced back and forth in front of his enemy and dragged the point of the blade down the barrier between them. Mountain ash separated the two immortals and sparked electric at the touch.

“Oh, look at you…” Theo breathed, eyes widening in appreciation as he took in Scott’s clenched muscles, the twisted snarl to his lips, the hatred that burned deep in dark brown eyes. He put his hand to the barrier like he could reach out and touch Scott. “I’ve always wanted to see what it would be like when you finally broke. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined. I always knew that you had this side in you. All those gentle words and naïve hero’s morality,  _this_  is what you were always meant to be. I saw it in you when I first met you and I knew I had to have it. All this rage, all this violence. You pretend it’s not there right below the surface, but I know what you really are, husband.”

“A monster, I know. You made me this way, I hope you’re happy.”

“I didn’t make you, you came to me this way.” Theo sneered, dragging his nails across the barrier. He could handle setbacks. Time wasn’t an issue, but centuries had been building up to this one perfect moment. Who knew how long he’d have to wait for another chance as right as this. It was what tied them together. It was fate. Before Scott could turn back to the detective, Theo called out. His voice softened, as tempting as any snare. “I finished, Scott. I know how to fix us now.”

Scott froze before he could stop himself. Incredulity was written across his features, sharpened by something far more vulnerable. Fear. Scott didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t. Theo could have already won.

“Don’t you want to know why we’ve been playing this game for so long? Don’t you want to see how it all ends?” He watched the blood drain from his King’s face, and wondered how good he’d look on the end of a knife. “Let me out and I can tell you everything.”

“I don’t care!” Scott hissed. “You think having a reason matters for killing all those people? They were innocent, Theo!”

“You were once too, Scott. Things change.” He levelled the gun at the fallen detective and Scott moved between them, sheltering Stiles with his body. “Have him break the barrier or I’ll put the next one in his head. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

“I won’t let you.”

“Since when have you ever been able to stop me from doing anything? Break the barrier!” He fired the gun, bullet slicing through Scott’s arm with enough force to spin him around. Scott grit his teeth against the pain, taking an involuntary gasp before tightening his grip around the dagger.

“Stiles, do it.”

“Scott…”

“Do it!”

It was a gamble, but with the gun, they didn’t have much choice. Theo could kill them both from where he stood and only one of them would be getting back up again. Groaning with the effort, Stiles stretched out his foot, reluctantly scrapping a line through the blood and ash on his floor. This was stupid and dangerous, but they were running out of options and Scott seemed so determined. Stiles hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

Scott was through the barrier the moment it fell, throwing his weight against the other man and sending them both tumbling to the floor. The gun skittered across the hardwood out of reach as Scott brought the hilt of the dagger smashing down into Theo’s nose. Blood sprayed across his face before he was heaved off, his enemy taking advantage of his momentary leverage to bring his boot crunching down on Scott’s knees.

“You think you can stop me?” He snarled as his King screamed. “You’re the one who said yes to  _me_. You’re the one who begged for me to have you! You promised me.”

“Things changed.” Scott hissed, dragging himself upright and favoring his right leg. They grappled again, blade cutting deep into Theo’s unprotected body. Even injured, Scott struck like a storm, battering his enemy with righteous fury. For all his skill and for all his advantage, nothing could stand against Scott when he let down his restraints and Theo felt a twinge of pride that he was the reason this magnificent, feral creature existed. If he could just control it, they would be unstoppable.

“Wait!” He threw up his bloody hands, taking a gamble to knock Scott off his guard. “What if I told you it could stop?”

Scott hesitated, breathing hard as he took a wary step back. “What do you mean?”

“ _Him_.” He pointed accusatorily at Stiles, skin waxy and pale but still managing a glare. “What I did was supposed to be just once, Scott. One life and then it was all over, you and I would be bound as soulmates, eternal and powerful. He was the one who ruined everything. You ever wonder why you can’t ever seem to get rid of him?”

“You’re lying,” Scott snarled, before he could understand how.

Theo spat barbs, his nostrils flaring in righteous anger. He took a daring step closer, ignoring the outstretched blade, already stained with his blood. His eyes never left Scott’s, savoring with vicious satisfaction the lengths his husband would go to destroy him. “He’s the reason we can’t be together. Everything that’s happened to you is because of him. He’s keeping you from realizing your full potential. He stole you, the part of you that should have been mine, the part I deserve.”

“He wouldn’t- if he kept me from being like you, it’s worth it!”

Theo caught Scott unawares, attacking his injured knee and driving Scott backwards until he hit a wall with a heavy thump. The King brought his blade up in defense, sharp edge cutting into the vulnerable pulse at Theo’s throat. A sliver of crimson prickled across pale skin, but Theo would not retreat. “You’ve never had a soul for me to take, did you Scott?” Each word was spun with a serpent’s’ tongue, but that made Theo’s promises all the sweeter. “I can make it all stop. I can give you everything you want. No one else would have to die, and your greedy whore can finally rest… Let me show you how to live again.”

“Don’t you ever call him that!” Scott pressed the blade harder, but Theo just held his hands up in surrender and modified his tone, switching tactics and weaving his venom with his words.

“The ritual was supposed to make you my soulmate, but it took me so long to understand that you already had one. That’s why the spell kept needing more power and why I had to keep killing. It was designed to bind the two of us together forever and instead, we were dragging him around with us the entire time like an anchor.”

Scott’s weapon wavered and he spared a glance at Stiles’s face, pinched in pain as blood slowly pooled around him. “We did this to him?” Another lie, please let it be another lie. Somehow Theo’s words rang true, his husband was enjoying the truth too much for this to be a trick.

“I can make it all go away. He’s going to die anyways, but I can make this the last time he ever has to suffer.” Theo dug his hooks in deep, hiding a smile as he saw his words strike a blow. “He gets to finally be free and to rest, no more being dragged into life over and over again because of you. You can cut him loose and he won’t ever have to hurt ever again.” He slowly wrapped his hand around Scott’s wrist and pushed his unresisting arm away from his neck. He purred into his King’s ear, knowing exactly how to strike at his vulnerabilities. “We can set this right again. You can let him go and we can finally complete the ritual once and for all. There won’t be any more killing. We’ll be in balance, it’ll all stop, Scott. No more innocents, no more having to maintain the spell. This is what you wanted, right?”

“I-I…” This was all his fault? Scott couldn’t die and his immortality had ruined Stiles too. He’d died because Scott had been too blind to the danger to save him, and he suffered because they were tied together close enough to share this curse.

“Shhhh…” Theo stepped into his space, tracing gentle fingers down the side of Scott’s cheek and coaxing him closer even when he tried to flinch away. “You didn’t know, none of us knew. How could we have guessed that you were soulmates all those years ago? But we can fix this now and no one else will ever have to suffer again. It’s all going to be okay.”

“How?” The King’s voice broke on the word, hand still curled around the dagger even though his fingers were nerveless and numb. Theo guided him back over to Stiles, crouching them both beside the detective to watch him wheeze for air, bubbles of blood drooling past his lips.

“ _You_  have to be the one to kill him. It’ll cut the bond and set him free. You and I can finally be together without him draining the spell and we won’t ever have to kill anyone again. He’s going to bleed out in a minute or two anyways, this is your chance to save him. Finish the ritual.”

“I have to give myself to you?”

“Don’t listen to him, Scott!” Stiles sucked in a wet breath, lungs filling with liquid as he bared his bloodstained teeth at Theo.

“And no one else dies.” Theo kissed the side of his face as Scott shuddered. “It seems a fair trade, doesn’t it? Your life for thousands. I know you’ll make the right choice.”

Scott bowed over his friend, a broken man. Theo was right, but this wasn’t a choice at all. His immortality had been paid for with too many innocent lives already, this had to stop. All it would take was losing his best friend and surrendering to his worst nightmare. Slick, blooding fingers closed around his own, shaking as they squeezed against the hilt of the dagger.

“I’m still with you, my king.” Stiles whispered in the soft, warm singsong of a long dead language. His Stiles. The last few moments that he cherished and dreaded every lifetime. Brown eyes met amber gold, a silent pact between a king and the loyal knight would had promised to stand at his side forever. Scott gave the barest nod of understanding.

He remembered Stiles’s hands when they were more calloused by swordplay and hard labor, remembered when they had the strength of a seafarer behind them and the steadiness of a seasoned Sheriff. He remembered when they were gentle and uncertain, needing Scott’s guidance, when they were dainty and slender with bloodied knuckles, and when there was dirt caked under his nails and the only kind hands Scott was ever allowed. He remembered hundreds of years of moments, of his best friend and the love of his long, pained life, and how unfair it all was, and how much Scott missed him. Tears caught in his lashes, and he knew that if Stiles could, he would chastise him for them with a laugh and a sigh and the wickedest smile Scott had ever known.

“I’m so sorry.”

When Scott pushed the blade in, Stiles guided him.

Theo never saw it coming. In a blink, Scott shifted his stance, free hand jabbing into his throat, cutting off his air supply before he dragged him to the ground by the front of his shirt, into a pool of drying blood. Scott’s aim was true as they struck together, two halves of one whole and hand in hand to end this nightmare. The ceremonial dagger found its mark in Theo’s black, shriveled heart. Scott lunged at him, his thoughts racing but his goal painfully clear. Decades of preparation whispered in his ear. It was like the dagger had a mind of its own as they cut deep, even as the other man clawed at him, choking on his own blood. Energy raced through their veins, bright sparks running like lightning across their bodies and bringing with it a demanding, monstrous call for power. Scott was more than his own skin, trembling with strength he never could have possessed on his own, and he knew, even before his tormentor breathed his last that he would never meet him again.

Scott was so overwhelmed, he could only sob, but he watched with dazed eyes as Stiles’s arm fell away, his fingers cold and lips tinged blue.

“Stiles,” he croaked, unwittingly falling back to his mother tongue, one he hadn’t used in centuries. There were only a handful of words he knew now, but his knight’s name came so easily. “Stiles, Stiles!”

It was a macabre scene, the love of Scott’s life side by side with the monster that made him. Scott would have no recollection of calling the police, no recollection of using every war zone trick he’d ever learned to fight for his detective’s life, and he would never know that the EMTs found him screaming, a broken, beaten man who only knew his best friend’s last triumphant smile.

Scott didn’t resist as he was taken away, bloodstained hands folded in front of him on a bare metal table and interrogated for hours. A cop had fallen and they closed ranks around him, demanding the details of the attack that led to Stiles’s death. He spoke in a monotone, giving them everything he could about the Blind Man’s attack and the struggle in Detective Stilinski’s apartment. Eventually, he just closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the cool metal and refused to say anything more. Even with his blood spattered clothes, Theo’s fingerprints were on the gun and Stiles’s had been on the dagger. There wasn’t evidence enough to contradict Scott’s statement and they reluctantly let him go with strict warnings not to leave the area until the investigation was complete. The sharp orders broke through the grief in Scott’s mind and he almost laughed. Where would he go now? It was over, but what was left for him? Who was he without the ones who’d shaped him?

He followed after Stiles like he always had, no where left to go. The hospital smelled like lingering food and bleach and Scott’s stomach recoiled. The EMTs had taken Stiles’s body here, this impersonal and white-walled building. He’d spent too many years in hospitals, working to save people who lived and died in the blink of an eye. Someone had offered him clean clothes, worn scrubs without the drying gore, and he was so grateful to the kind nurse for her help. A small comfort. The broken king leaned back in his chair, head in his hands.

* * *

 

Scott never stopped running. He didn’t know when he started. It was too dark to see, but the ground beneath his feet was crumbling, and stopping meant death. The screaming never stopped, echoing through his head no matter how fast he fled, his lungs begging for air and legs aching with every step. Worse still were the whispers that snaked beneath, spitting hateful truths he couldn’t face.  _You killed us. You killed us all._

“I didn’t mean to!” He begged. “I never meant to! I never meant to hurt anyone!” Pain broke across his spine, jagged metal tearing through his shoulder, but this time there was no way to break free. Gentle fingers stroked down his cheek, turning cruel as they grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up. Scott stared into the empty sockets where bright blue eyes used to be, and his husband wouldn’t let him go.

“Y-you’re-”

“Dead?” The corpse smiled at him, sightless sockets weeping tears of blood. “You killed me, but I still own you, husband. After all these years and you’ve finally become the monster I always knew you were.”

Scott tried to jerk away, shoulder mutilated by sharpened steel and pinned in place so he couldn’t move. He screamed as Theo’s ruined face leaned in close, pressing gentle kisses against his mouth and swallowing each terrified whimper. “You’re never going to be human again. I never turned you into this, you were a monster on your own and all I did was set you free.” Theo pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against Scott’s, gaping holes staring into his captive’s eyes. “You’re just like me.”

“I’m not,” Scott tried, but he couldn’t look away, not when Theo touched him like that. He’d always known how to control Scott, how to bend him to his will. He demanded everything Scott was never ready to give with a steady hand and gentle smile, but Scott could taste blood in the back of his mouth, and when he cried, Theo’s grin sharpened around a mouthful of fangs. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I’m so sorry Theo please please.”

“Did you enjoy it?” The demon asked, running his hands down Scott’s trembling form. “You always beg so prettily for me, Scott. You always come back to me. You’ve always wanted this, wanted what only I could give you. We’re made for each other, Scott. No one else could love someone so damaged.”

He knew how heavy Theo’s hands could be. Bile crept up his throat as Theo stroked down his chest, his hands lingering over his hips where he liked to leave his bruises. Scott knew what he wanted, Scott knew how to be a good boy for him, his pathetic, desperate little boy and his trained monster. 

“Stop,” he cried, but Theo never did. Theo never would. Scott might have finally defeated his enemy, but he could never be free from himself.

“ _Wake up_!”

The voice cut through the nightmare, a bright lighthouse in the drowning dark and he grasped for it, jerking back up in his chair as awareness hit like a sledgehammer. A pale, bruised face watched his intently, split lips twitching into a broken smile. “Hey Scotty. There you are, no more nightmares.” The man on the bed rasped, machines wired to his chest picking up the spike in his pulse and Scott gave a weary, relieved smile.

“Stiles, oh god, you had me worried.” Scott tried to calm his racing heart and wiped the tears from his cheek with the back of his hand. “They said your heart stopped for four minutes, you  _died_. I didn't know if you'd ever wake up again.”

“Way to be super dramatic. Tons of people die,” Stiles snorted, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out when Scott looked like that, a tired grunt catching in his throat before the former king inched close enough to press Stiles’s palm against his cheek. 

“My Scott… My sweet, brave Scott.” There was a lilt in the detective’s voice that hadn’t been there a day ago. For years, only one person had said his name with that accent. Scott couldn’t help the way his heart raced, anticipation bubbling in his chest, but for what, he didn’t know. “You promised you’d let me woo you.”

Laughter was difficult, but not as much as hope. Scott couldn’t stop waiting for the shoe to drop, wondering what the fine print to this curse would be, but before he could talk himself into a panic attack, Stiles inched away from him, trying to make room for him on a cot that was too small and obstructed by too many wires and tubes. Stiles should have been resting. He’d spent over six hours in surgery, and it was a wonder he was conscious at all. Scott had no idea how close this was to over, but he was afraid that if he held onto Stiles, he would never let go.

“Well, come on,” Stiles urged with a hint of impatience. No matter who he was, he wore annoyance like armor, and it fit so well. It took someone who knew him to find the concern that underlined his demands.

Scott didn’t move, but he smiled again. It was a pained, tired thing. “I don’t know if this is real, but If I’m dreaming, I don’t want to wake up.”

“This mess should’ve been a pretty big hint, dude. Breaking the law and hiding in plain sight’s kind of our thing, isn’t it?”

“We always cause too much trouble.”

Stiles reached out and hooked his fingers into Scott’s borrowed shirt, tugging insistently until the other man joined him. They fit together carefully, Scott mindful of Stiles’s wounds and wriggling on the hospital bed. His heart thudded against his ribs, too afraid to let himself believe.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“You  _look_  funny.”

The Detective smiled, crooked and fond as he flicked his best friend in the forehead. “Stop worrying so much, Scotty. This is real, I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you…you remember. How do you remember?” He murmured, dragging the tip of his fingers across the freckles on his partner’s cheek. Stiles only remembered when he was dying, but they’d restarted his heart. Was this because of what they did to Theo? Or was it because they managed to save him for the first time? Was it going to last?

Stiles shrugged and winced, letting Scott fuss anxiously over him and enjoying the attention. “It’s confusing, there’s a lot of memories to sort through but…you’re in so many of them. It means a lot. I’m sorry for everything, my King. I hurt you when I shouldn’t have and I wanted to protect you from all of this.”

“Stiles, I don’t care-”

“It matters. I need to say this because it’s important. I’m sorry.” Scott quieted against Stiles’s side, and the detective ached to run his fingers through his best friend’s hair. He remembered when it was long and curled, falling in thick waves around the Ghost’s shoulders, remembered how alluring it was to kiss Scott’s smooth nape after he’d tied his locks in a bun atop his head. He remembered it buzzed short with Dr. McCall’s no-nonsense scowl, and how floppy it looked, dusty and tangled beneath Scott’s Stetson. There were other things he remembered, too, clear and crisp like they’d happened yesterday. The ceremony when he was knighted; the head cleric’s somber, disapproving  _bloodthirsty_ frown; how proud he’d been of himself and how terrified when he’d stolen his first coin purse. “You’ve been hurting for a long time. I’m sorry I ever left you... I was so angry. I spent so many lives angry. So much time…it wasn’t fair.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” They lay together in silence for a long time, ancient creatures relearning each other with a gentle hesitant touch, like they were completely new again. It was everything Scott had ever wanted and he was unsure if he should take it, or if he’d be allowed to keep it if he did. He drew aimless circles with his fingertips across Stiles’s arms, wondering how many lifetimes his skin could hold. “Do you really remember everything? Like my mom?” Scott finally asked in a small voice. “I-I don’t…I can’t remember her name.”

“Queen Melissa.” His memories were new and jumbled, but vividly sharp and Stiles cupped his fingers around Scott’s jaw. “She was beautiful and kind and strong. She was always so proud of you…and she liked me too, when I wasn’t dragging you into trouble.”

Scott took a shuddering breath as he nodded. Theo was gone, maybe her memory could finally rest now too. “We did the right thing, didn’t we? We’re not like him?” His expression faltered, guilt and his own lingering nightmares making him doubt himself, but Stiles drew him in.

The detective’s limbs felt like lead, and every little movement introduced new pains. The chance to hold Scott was still worth it. Stiles leaned in to hide his face into the crook of his partner’s throat, sighing into his skin. “We did the right thing and we’re nothing like him. We’re human. No matter what he said,  _you’re_ human. He wanted to make people suffer and you keep trying to save them even when it killed you. I won’t let you keep getting hurt, stay with me.”

Scott pressed his lips to his friend’s forehead. He’d broken so many promises in his life, but this was the one he’d always managed to keep. “I love you, I’m not letting you go.”

“Good.” Stiles laughed, his fingers curling into the thin fabric of Scott’s shirt. This time, Scott wouldn’t be the only one who could hold on. “Rest, Scott. You’re allowed to rest.”

* * *

 

Scott breathed in deep, filling his lungs with salt air. It was warm and humid, almost like a weight against his skin, and sweet with late blooming flowers. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the ocean beyond their front door had turned an inky black broken only by the tips of white as lazy waves rolled in. Already, the sky had started to light with a billion stars, more than he’d ever seen in Beacon Hills. Once he’d known many of them by name when they guided his way across the sea. There would be a storm coming tomorrow, he could feel it in the sluggish breeze and was inordinately pleased that he still had his weather sense after so many years.

“I can’t find my Hawaiian shirt, Scott!” The voice called out from the house behind him. “Dude, you know the one with the hot girls and the pineapples? I wanted to wear it tomorrow, you didn’t ditch it, did you?”

“It’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever seen, you’d look better in a cat sweater.”

“Pfft.” He could hear Stiles rolling his eyes. “I’d melt in a cat sweater, but a Hawaiian shirt with cats on it? I could totally get behind that. I’d call it pussy paradise.”

“Oh my god, Stiles.”

The Detective laughed, joining Scott on the deck and wrapping his arms around his best friend from behind. His chest was bare and he still had a smear of sunscreen across his nose, pale skin slippery and smelling like coconut. “Or I could just go nude?”

“I’m sure the locals would love that.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty impressive. If I was going to end up with any body, this one isn’t so bad. I’m pretty hot, if I do say so myself.”

Scott twisted in Stile’s arm with a wry grin. “You do say so yourself.”

“Always good to have confidence, Scotty. Besides, it’ll help when I meet with the local police chief tomorrow. I was thinking about offering my services if they’d have me.”

It was too much and Scott cackled, pinching his friend between his ribs to make Stiles squirm. “You? Bringing law and order to this island? I never would have believed it!”

Stiles rubbed his side and stole a kiss, smug at the way he could still fluster his King. “Living off your stashed pirate booty is fun and all, but I kind of like this new outlook on things. And that’s not the kind of booty I’m interested in tonight anyways.”

He laughed, pressing in close to his soulmate and kissed him until they were both breathless and giggling under the stars.

Something had changed. Scott didn’t know if they’d finished Theo’s ritual and bound themselves together like Theo had been trying to do for a thousand years, or if they’d broken the curse once and for all. It never really mattered. The past would always shape them, but for the first time ever, Scott could look forward towards a future together.

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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